


Sethon One-Shot Collection

by MadameExpendable



Category: Saturday Night Live
Genre: 25 of 'Em, Accidental RPF, Awkward in Church, Drug Use, Gay Marriage, Headcanon galore, Homosexuality, Intense Clubbing, M/M, Meet the Family, One-Word Prompts, Overly-Peppy Older Brothers, Saturday Night Live - Freeform, Sethon - Freeform, Suddenly Serious Situations, Trying to Take a Non-Serious Character Seriously While Keeping them IC, too many tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameExpendable/pseuds/MadameExpendable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>25 glimpses into the lives of Seth and Stefon at various points in their relationship, from when they barely know each other, to after they're married. Each story is based off of a one-word prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 39) Work

**Author's Note:**

> To feed my weird Sethon obsession, I found a list of 130 one-word prompts (I don't remember where, but props to whoever made it!), and I took an hour to write out quick descriptions for as many of them as possible. Afterwards, I went through the descriptions and chose 25 that I thought were decent enough to turn into one-shots.
> 
> This will be updated on Saturday nights, and all prompts will be out of numerical order. In the chapter title, it will say the prompt number (as it appeared on the list) and the prompt word.
> 
> So, here's the first one. It was written in the middle of the night, and I have no beta, so forgive me for crazy grammar (especially commas). I'm sorry it's so rushed. He had a very brief career.
> 
> Now for the technical stuff.
> 
> I used the term "production assistant" for the job. I was thinking like a production assistant on a film project (sometimes, their job is to pretty much just do whatever random thing is asked of them) but for SNL. Now, I don't know if it works quite the same way for TV shows as it does for movies (I really didn't want to make him a full-blown page), but I'm pretty sure that they made up a job and uniform for Stefon because they felt bad for him (which is what I originally intended anyway). Also, don't expect uniform accuracy. I was just amused by the thought of Stefon wearing khakis. (And remember, they probably just threw him in some random clothes and payed him the bare minimum.)
> 
> I'm sure most future ones will be better than this one, though.

Seth was surprised to see Stefon when he walked into the meeting room that day. It wasn't like it was unusual for Stefon to hang around during writing days or sketch pitches. However, it was unusual that he was standing at the side of the room, wearing NBC P. A. garb consisting of beige khakis, a dark blue polo shirt (with a black long sleeved shirt underneath, which was not uniform), and a black cap bearing the peacock logo on the front. Other than the undershirt, his clothes looked baggy and awkward, like they were hand-me-downs from someone much larger than himself, not in height, but girth. He looked up when Seth entered, and waved spastically at the Weekend Update anchor, who just stared at him with an expression of pure confusion.

Seth shook his head and took a seat at the table. Even as he brought out his notebook and other various papers chocked full of jokes, his eyes couldn't help but stray to Stefon in curiosity. Seeing him in this outfit was even more peculiar than his hideous Ed Hardy shirts and rhinestone encrusted boots. The only traits that remained untouched about the city correspondent's appearance were the four gaudy rings that always adorned his fingers, his tidy, asymmetrical hairdo (which was mostly hidden by the hat), and the ever-so-subtle guyliner.

So, did they decide that his usual clothes were too tacky to wear around the building? Maybe he'd spilled something on himself and had nothing else to change into. That, however, did not explain the microphone headset. His thoughts were pushed aside when Lorne entered the room.

.....

After the meeting was over with, Seth left with a satisfied grin on his face. Thankfully, most of his jokes went over great, as well as a couple sketches he'd been working on. He strode through the hall, halting dead in his tracks when he looked into the lounge to find Stefon emptying coffee grounds from the coffee maker into the trashcan. The sudden stop caused someone to bump into his back. He apologized, and made his was across the hallway and into the lounge.

"Hey, Stefon," he greeted, "how are you doing today?"

Stefon looked up at the sound of Seth's voice, and started messing with his hair. "The same. Want some coffee?"

"Oh, sure. Thanks." Seth said politely. He watched silently as Stefon poured the beverage into a foam cup, and proceeded to add all the ingredients that made crappy lounge coffee not taste so much like crappy lounge coffee. Moments later, Stefon held out the cup, which Seth accepted graciously. "Hey, Stefon, you look... different."

"I knooow. These clothes are terrible," he fiddled with the hem of his polo shirt, "but, I have to wear them for my new job."

Seth raised his eyebrows. "New job?"

"Mmm-hmm, yeah. I'm a little short on rent money, so, I talked to Lorne about it, and I guess some, like, strings were pulled, cause now I'm a part-time P. A." Stefon explained as he pulled nervously on his sleeves.

"Oh, well, congratulations!" He put a hand on Stefon's shoulder, making the man jump slightly, "You'll still be doing Update though, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

"So, what exactly does a P. A. do around here?" Seth questioned.

"Yesyesyesyes, Seth, lemme tell you. I do everything; get people coffee, run scripts to cast members, touch up makeup before shows, run errands..." The way he listed off all of his duties with his fingers like he would the attractions at one of his nightclubs amused Seth greatly, "... get things from the prop room, help the people in the wig department measure celebrities' heads... Yeah, it's great."

"Those are some pretty big responsibilities." Seth noted, "I'm glad you like it. I'm sure you'll do great." He smiled warmly at the slightly taller man, who returned the gesture before putting his hands over his mouth.

"Thanks, Seth."

.....

Stefon turned out to be surprisingly handy when dress rehearsal rolled around. When one of the guests accidentally knocked over a bottle of water during the middle of an Update rehearsal, spilling the entire freezing cold contents onto Seth's suit, Stefon was at his side in less than 5 seconds with a towel. When Seth showed up almost late due to a slight mishap with his girlfriend -and had to literally sprint into the studio- Stefon was right up onstage with a bottle of hair gel in one hand and a makeup kit in the other, both of which he applied impossibly fast with impeccable skill. In fact, when Seth later caught a glimpse of the recording, he couldn't recall a time when he looked better on camera. 

After Stefon was done working his magic, he would go down, stand by the crew, and watch the sketches in admiration. And, he wasn't exaggerating when he said he did everything. From doing small personal favors and errands for crew members, to holding up cue cards during skits, Stefon was all over the place, never stopping once to rest. And to top it all off, he seemed to genuinely enjoy his new job... even if it entailed running to Andy's apartment to grab his wallet, which he forgot on multiple occasions.

When Saturday night rolled around, he did just as well, if not better than the dress rehearsal. He was a little anxious -only slightly more than usual- but did his very best to remain calm and help out with quick changes in between sketches. When asked how he was able to do said changes in such a short amount of time, he replied with something about "years of helping the Ron-Paula Deens over at "Squishy" get into their greased bronze catsuits", to which nobody really knew how to respond.

.....

Eventually, Stefon quit his job as a production assistant. It was a real shame, Seth thought. He was awfully good at it. But, the reason he was quitting was a good one; Stefon quickly realized that this job was making him normal.

"Like, I woke up yesterday morning at 7, ate bran, put on these ugly black leather shoes, and walked straight here without even thinking about it. I think I might have accidentally been doing a routine. I mean, I haven't had sex in, like, two weeks, Seth Meyers. I can't just be okay with that. Something's gotta give." Stefon explained. He sounded disgusted with himself at the thought of having a morningly routine.

Though he was sad that Stefon was giving up his job to someone else who'd probably be less than half as good at it, he was also relieved. "I hate to see you quit, Stefon, but I'm also kind of glad you are. I don't know if I could handle you being normal."

"I know." Stefon agreed. They continued to walk down the crowded city street in silence for a few moments, before he added, "So, do you want to come back to my place and watch a movie or something?"

Seth raised his eyebrows. "You don't want to go out tonight?"

Stefon rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Nah. I'm exhausted." He looked over to see Seth staring at him with wide eyes. "I just need a few hours to recharge." He said quickly, "Tomorrow, I'm going to SLINKY and doing GayQuil with black Donald Sterling."

Seth grinned and slung an arm over the younger man's shoulder. "Of course you are."


	2. 57) Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good God, this one's just gooey pre-Sethon pointless awkward romantic bleh. Don't take anything too seriously. I swear I'll get to the funnier, more relevant ones soon. 
> 
> So basically, they go out to look at the Christmas lights and Seth gets all oogly. I know I get all oogly when I'm surrounded by city lights.
> 
> I'm so sorry for this. I hate fluff so much.
> 
> WARNING: Seth buckling under pressure like a wimp, less of Stefon's bizarre drugged-out dialogue and more of Seth's inner thoughts, intensely awkward misread situations that turn into shattered windows of opportunity, rash decisions made in the heat of the moment, the way I describe Bill Hader as if he's some kind of angel with a goofy smile and a lazy eye (which he is), and probably a couple swear words.

"I don't know, Stefon. Are you sure we're allowed up here?" Seth questioned nervously as Stefon practically dragged him by his hand up the numerous flights of stairs.

"Stop being a baby, Seth Meyers." Stefon replied jokingly as they passed a couple making out on one of the many landings.

Seth was almost offended. "I'm not being a baby. I'm just saying, we could get thrown out if we're not careful."

"Nah. One of my buddies has, like, a thing here," he stated vaguely, his hair bouncing with each step they climbed. Seth had no clue how that made any of this okay. "Plus, this place has the hottest view of the city." Seth blinked a few times. Hottest view? Why couldn't he suggest places with good views when he visited the show? Seth shook his head, when the stairs suddenly ended. In front of them was a door, a very heavy door, which Stefon pushed open with only minor difficulty. 

As they stepped outside, the cool winter air gusted past Seth's face, making him pull his coat tighter around his body. It took him a moment to realize that it was snowing. He looked over to see that Stefon wasn't wearing anything to protect him from the chill but a hoodie, and rolled his eyes. As the door slowly closed behind them, the light faded away until they were shrouded in the darkness of the night, the distant ringing of police sirens sounding up from the busy streets. "We're the only ones up here." Seth noted aloud. He saw the other man nod out of the corner of his eye.

"Come on." Stefon beckoned with his head as he started walking toward the edge of the large building. Seth didn't know what to do but follow after him.

"Look, you're not wearing a coat, and it's late, and I'm pretty sure we shouldn't be up-" Seth rambled as he looked at Stefon, paying very little attention to his surroundings, that is until they got to the edge of the roof. "-here... Oh, wow."

Stefon was right. The view was incredible. The beautiful skyscrapers of Manhattan stretched far into the sky, lit up from top to bottom like magnificent Christmas trees, imposing but also inviting as they cast a warm yellow-ish glow onto the busy streets below them. Right across from them was 30 Rockefeller and the ice rink, which was cheerful and alive with festive New Yorkers celebrating the holidays with their families while they skated carelessly beneath the colorful glow of the giant tree. Seth suddenly didn't care too much anymore that they weren't allowed to be there. 

He looked over at Stefon to see what he thought of all of this, and for the first time in a long time, Seth's heart skipped a beat. The way the younger man looked out at the city was mesmerizing, his expression one of dazed contentment. Stefon was in love. He was hopelessly, unabashedly, madly in love with New York City. He'd been that way since the day they met. Seth didn't think that his feelings for anything -or anyone- could ever quite compare. And to him, that was great. It was oddly... inspiring.

It wasn't long before Seth realized he was admiring the way Stefon was admiring the view, and it dawned on him that this was a rather intimate moment he was sharing with his tweaked out city correspondent, what with all the lights and the wreaths and the snow and the... was that Christmas music in the background? It must've been coming from the ice rink. Anyway, it all seemed very... blatantly romantic. And that terrified the hell out of Seth. He felt the sudden need to emotionally distance himself as far away from Stefon as humanly possible. He had a girlfriend. Stefon probably had a boyfriend. There was nothing going on between them.

So, with that, Seth pursed his lips and pretended not to notice the way the lights reflected off of Stefon's icy blue eyes, turning them a soft gold hue. He pretended not to notice the expression of wonderment on his face, or the sparkling white snowflakes that landed in his hair and on his eyelashes, or how relaxed he seemed compared to his usual anxious behavior. Seth was caught off guard when Stefon looked over and caught him staring. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. It's nothing." he assured, immediately tearing his gaze away to look back at the cityscape.

It was silent for a few minutes, before Stefon said, "You know, we're pretty lucky guys, Seth Meyers."

Seth raised his eyebrows, forcing himself not to turn his head. "Why is that?"

"Look at where we live!" Stefon exclaimed with a large hand gesture towards the city across from them, "It's ama-zing..."

"Yeah." Seth looked over, unintentionally making eye contact that he, no matter how much he wanted to, found himself unable to break. Ah, to hell with it. Stefon looked so absolutely thrilled to be there with him, and he wasn't going to screw that up by acting all awkward and distant. Just this once, he'd indulge in whatever this weird... thing was that they shared. "Yeah," he said again with a smile, "it is amazing. Really amazing." And, like a fool, he ended that already cryptic sentence by subconsciously placing his hand over Stefon's on the concrete railing. Yikes.

He completely overdid the subliminally flirtatious and mostly platonic signal he was trying to send out, instead replacing it with a bold move that practically screamed, 'Come home with me." 

All of the color in Stefon's face immediately drained and his eyes went as wide as dinner plates. He recovered in only seconds, and with a hopeful expression on his now smiling face, turned so that they were fully facing each other and said, "... Seth?"

He was in some deep shit.

Stefon's free hand was just dangling awkwardly beside him, and instead of doing the normal human common-sense thing and dropping the one he was holding, the part of Seth's brain that got nervous in these kinds of situations automatically grabbed the other hand as well. God, Stefon's fingers were freezing. After he did so, Stefon made a very quiet, high pitched noise in the back of his throat, and had his hands been free, they would've definitely been covering his face by now.

To any onlooker -which there were currently none of, thank God- it would have looked like Seth was about to proclaim his undying love for him. Even though that was not the case, he felt that he should say something to break the tension he'd created- whether it was something that would get him out of this sticky situation or something even worse than what he'd already done, he wasn't yet sure. Stefon's eyes darted around Seth's face excitedly, the dim lighting from the buildings mixed with all of the snowy Christmas cheer creating an atmosphere that was rapidly turning this whole ordeal into a gay version of one of those quirky holiday rom-coms that his girlfriend loved so much. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, stuttering out short, clippy sounds as he stared confusedly into Stefon's eyes.

Then, it hit him.

Every word he'd ever been too scared to say, all of the repressed feelings flooded into his mind at an incredible rate, like water through a broken dam. Now was his chance. In the heat of the moment, he said, "Stefon, I-"

... When the shrill sound of his cellphone cut through the air, either ruining or saving him from what could have been the biggest ah-ha moment of his life.

Either way, Stefon's bright and shockingly sober gaze faltered.

"Um... Hold o- Stefon, hold on for a second. Just one second." He released Stefon's right hand, and upon realizing that it was the wrong hand for reaching into the coat pocket, took Stefon's hand once more and let to of the left one. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out his Blackberry. 

Well, crap. Talk about a mood killer.

"Um... I'm sorry, I've gotta take this." He let go of Stefon's hand and stepped away a few feet, hitting the answer button and holding the phone up to his ear. "Hello?" he greeted.

Stefon looked down at his hands, frowning at the loss of warmth. Only then did he realize that they were shaking, not from the cold, but from anxiety. What if this was it? It had been 4 years since they first met. What if this was the big one? His smile returned to his face, as did his hands. He made a mental note to call David and his mother when he got home.

"Yeah, okay." Seth replied to the person on the other end of the phone, trying his best to speed the conversation along, "No, it sounds great. Yeah, definitely. Go for it. Okay... Okay, I'll talk to you later. Alright. Bye." Seth put the phone back in his pocket and turned to walk back to Stefon. "Sorry about that. Jason needed some advice about a skit."

"Mm-hmm, that's okay. Uh, what were you saying?" Stefon asked, holding out his hands.

"Oh, right." Seth took them in his own once more. Clearing his throat, he said, "Stefon, I... I... I- uh..."

He blanked. 

The interruption had snapped him back to reality. He knew that there were a million things he wanted to say, but not one word came to mind. "I... I, um, I forget what I was going to say." He chuckled nervously, and was pleasantly surprised when Stefon chuckled along with him. It brought a sense of humor to this really screwed up situation. "You know, we should probably get back inside." He looked down at their entwined fingers and his jaw almost dropped. "Oh my god, Stefon. Your hands are blue!"

"Really?" Stefon also looked down, "That's weird. It's, like, super hot out here."

"What? Wait, nevermind." Seth shook his head and shrugged his heavy black coat off. "Here," he put it around Stefon's shoulders. 

"Aww." Stefon pulled it snug against his frame and inhaled the fabric deeply. "Thanks."

Seth rolled his eyes at Stefon's over-romanticized antics. "No problem. Come on, let's go."

As they started walking back towards the door, Stefon said, "Look, I'm just gonna put myself out there..." 

Seth froze.

"Do you wanna come with me tonight to BOOOOOOOOOF? They're having their semi-annual Queens of Queens wrestling match, and I need a witness, 'cause last time, one of those guys cheated and stabbed me in the leg with his broken-off stiletto. Totally grounds for disqualification, or at least a revoke on their whiskey boat license."

Seth exhaled in relief and raised an eyebrow. "You want me to come watch you dress up in drag and beat people with shoes?"

Stefon tsked in an annoyed way. "You're not listening to me. I just told you; using your shoes as weapons is against the rules, no matter what percentage of them are actual functioning weapons. Plus, we don't just dress in drag and beat each other up. We do it in a kiddy pool filled with low-fat key lime yogurt. "

Seth thought about this for a second. "If I go, do I have to participate?"

"No no no. Not even if you wanted to. There was a whole pre-registration thing, like, months ago. Sorry. If I'd known you wanted to participate, I would've-"

"No, that isn't what I meant. I don't want to- I mean... Sure, Stefon. Let's go to BOOOOOOOOOF." Seth slung his arm over Stefon's shoulder.

They headed away from the beautiful city lights, blissfully unaware that Jason was still listening through the phone.


	3. 58) Tree(s)/Shade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little bit short. Still pre-marriage. It's pretty much just David trying to get a cranky Stefon and indifferent Seth to enjoy the outdoors, which they are not having one bit. Inspired by Seth constantly talking about how much he dislikes the outdoors on Late Night.
> 
> Explaining the use of "dad" here; Ted is neither David nor Stefon's biological father (because of the whole David Bowie thing and Stefon is younger than David and David is most definitely not Bowie-spawn), so let's say their mom married Ted when Stefon was like 3 (which means David was like 7-9), so they pretty much grew up with him as their dad.

Seth opened his eyes as the dim sunlight filtered into the room through the crack in the curtains. He took a deep breath and sighed in content as he shot a glance to the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was 4:53 A.M., and completely silent. Everyone must've still been in bed. He looked over to his other side and his eyes met with an unconscious Stefon, who was facing him with his knees brought up to his stomach.

Seth had agreed to spend 2 weeks of his summer with Stefon and his family in the Zolesky vacation home, which in reality was no more than a three bedroom cabin on a hill in some woods about 4 hours out of the city. They'd arrived late last night after Seth got off work, and the first thing he noticed was that it wasn't very big, but it overlooked a beautiful lake, and was right in the center of a network of hiking trails, ziplines, and other various outdoor activities.

The size wouldn't have been such a big deal if it weren't being shared between 11 people; Seth, Stefon, David, their mother Stephanie, their step-dad Ted Williams, David's girlfriend Ashley, their daughter Frannie, Stefon's aunt Gina, his uncle Jimmy, his cousin Austin, and Austin's girlfriend of the week- Teresa.

That was a lot of people to squeeze under one roof. So, the bedding arrangements were Stephanie and Ted in the downstairs bedroom, Seth and Stefon in the upstairs room at the very end of the hall, right next to the master bedroom which was occupied by David and his family, Gina and Jimmy on the sleeper sofa in the lounge, and Austin and Teresa on recliners in the finished basement.

Seth had no clue when he agreed to this that there were going to be so many people. In fact, when Stefon mentioned how his younger cousin would be bringing his girlfriend, he remembered asking, "So, does everyone always come in pairs?" 

... To which Stefon replied, "Yeah, it's kind of this whole thing where you bring your, like, partner and the whole family evaluates them and decides whether they hate them or not."

It didn't register until later that same night that Seth was going as Stefon's "partner", and was therefore going to be scrutinized by a room full of Zoleskys. It made him nervous, to say the least.

Seth stared for a moment at his sleeping friend. Stefon was being moodier and more whiny than usual. It wasn't really his fault, though. Last night, David found his stash of uppers in his suitcase and immediately disposed of them, much to Stefon's dismay. Now he was stuck in the middle of the woods with no cellphone signal, no privacy from his family, and no drugs. Seth sighed and shut his eyes. It wasn't like he had anywhere to be that early. May as well get some more sleep.

About 10 minutes later, the door slammed open to reveal a fully dressed, fully showered David. Just when Seth was finally dozing off again, he cracked open an eye to look at him. Jesus, he looked way to peppy and awake at that hour to be human. Seth closed his eyes and pulled the covers over his and Stefon's heads before David could notice. Then, he heard it.

"Get up, lovebirds. We're going hiking!"

Oh no.

A low, tired grunt escaped Stefon's lips, his eyes still closed. "No, we're sleeping. Go away, David."

"Nope."

Seth jumped in shock when Stefon was suddenly pulled from under the blanket with a high pitched shriek, followed by a loud thud. Seth pushed the sheets down and sat up to see what had happened. Stefon was on the floor making a distressed whining sound, while David stood over him smugly with his arms crossed over his chest.

"C'mon, Stefon." David started in a voice that was way too loud for the time of day, "Lace up those hiking boots!"

"What hiking boots?" Stefon groaned, "I don't even own hiking boots."

David looked genuinely concerned. "What kind of schlub doesn't own a pair of hiking boots?"

"The kind that lives in Manhattan and hisses at trees." Seth joked. His smile dropped when the older brother's attention directed itself towards him.

David raised an eyebrow, "Do you own boots?"

"No." Seth chuckled nervously, "I also live in Manhattan and hiss at trees."

"So does mom." Stefon added, "And aunt Gina. And grandpa Clyde. We're not made to go outdoors, David. We're Zoleskys. We sit in bars and look pretty."

David scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You're not getting out of this. I have an extra pair of boots. Seth, I think you could wear dad's."

Stefon cringed. "Dad's shoes are too big for Seth Meyer's feet."

"Fine. How about this; you can wear Austin's boots, and Seth can have mine."

...

Half an hour and much complaining later, they were finally dressed and ready to go. Seth had to do some stretches because he'd apparently slept the entire night with Stefon's boney knees lodged into his back, and it turned out that Austin's feet were freakishly large for an 18 year old boy. That, or Stefon's feet were freakishly small for a 24 year old man. Either way, the shoes were too big, but, Austin had the smallest boots in the house, so Stefon would just have to deal with it.

When they were all finally ready to leave, they headed downstairs. Seth was severely amused at how out of place all these people looked in a log cabin. Stephanie and Gina were done up in heels, makeup, flashy dresses (Knock-offs, Stefon had informed him. They all liked to pretend they could afford designer clothes.), and expensive diamond jewelry, while the men had their hair gelled and slicked, their faces shaved, loafers on their feet, and those classy sweaters that never look as good on you as they do on the model. But somehow, they pulled it off, and they all looked utterly fabulous. Like they were about to go to a fashion shoot rather than a bike ride.

Then, there was David. He was all outdoorsy and masculine and he really seemed to like those plaid shirts. Stefon said that he was totally faking it, and that whenever he was with the family he pumped his macho-ness way up, like he was, in Stefon's words, "trying to impress them with his log-cutting Norse god bullshit or whatever". His girlfriend was all over it, or at least she pretended she was as to not puncture his fragile ego.

He just kind of reminded Seth of the Brawny paper towel guy.

...

"This is great. Just a couple of guys, out exploring the deadly wilderness of the mountains. See, Stefon? This is what real men do for fun." David insisted. They'd been out for 45 minutes, and it seemed like they were getting absolutely nowhere.

"You know what sounds even more fun? Going to THUD and getting into the quarter-mile grind-line with Cuban Tilda Swinton and the Jimmy Dean Breakfast Club."

For once, Seth agreed with him. This wasn't one of his beloved leisurely strolls through town, or even one of those refreshing morning runs he took every so often. No, this was an endless trek up a steep, tree coated mountain. He was dirty and sweaty and being attacked by insects of frightening size. It was an all-around unpleasant experience.

When Stefon asked if he wanted to stay with him in the family cabin, he didn't have the heart to tell him that he wasn't really the outdoorsy type. He much preferred to stay home and read a book or spend an evening at a Broadway show. Not to say that he didn't appreciate Mother Nature in all of her mysterious beauty, so long as he didn't have to be out in it. Stefon seemed to be the same way, only he despised all the plants and trees and hills.

Another hour passed before Stefon begrudgingly noted, "These boots haven't been broken in. They hurt so much." He had dark circles around his eyes, which were partially hidden by a mop of unkempt hair, and he seemed moody and even more anxious than usual. Seth made a note to never forcefully wake him while he was on rebound mode. Sure, he could stay awake for 4 days straight, but not without recharging his mental battery every once in awhile. Top that with with withdrawal symptoms that made him have to stop and vomit every 15 minutes, and you had yourself one unhappy camper. Sure, Seth could understand David not wanting Stefon to take drugs around his child, but was flushing them down the toilet really necessary?

"Maybe we should stop and rest for a few minutes. You look like you're going to be sick again." Seth eyed his ghostly white face. 

"We only have, like, 5 more minutes." David announced.

"5 more minutes until what?" Stefon asked.

"Well, we could stop and rest, or we could stick it out for a little longer and you'll see for yourself."

They decided to keep going, but agreed that once they got to wherever it is they were headed, they would stop and take a long break. They walked in silence up the hill, which seemed to become steeper and steeper with each step, until they finally reached their destination.

"Wow. Now, that's a view, for you!" David practically yelled with a huge smile. Stefon cringed at the unexpectedly loud noise.

They were on the very top of an incredibly large hill overlooking miles and miles of thick foresty terrain. The sun was starting to blossom over the tall trees in the distance, casting a warm golden glow over the lush green foliage. 

"Wow. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Stefon looked over to Seth with a smile.

David's chest swelled with pride. After a long day's work, he'd finally managed to change these two metropolitan pansies minds for the better. A grin as bright as the rising sun stretched across his face, and-

"Want to go back?"

"Yup."

David's happy expression immediately fell. "What! Guys, are you not seeing this!?"

Seth sighed. "Yes, we are. And, don't get me wrong, it's lovely- I love looking at it. We just don't like to be out in it."

David shook his head, disappointed at their lack of interest in the natural beauty of the land. He walked back to the cabin in bitter silence as they chatted idly about New York City's hottest clubs. Even so, he couldn't help but smile at how Seth gladly traded his comfortable boots for Stefon's stiff, unbroken in ones.


	4. 79) Shoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry for my absence. Two week long Florida vacay. Don't worry, I'm not by any means uninspired. 
> 
> This one's a little more inappropriate than the others. I'd say a heavy PG-13/soft R. Mostly just dirty language and some pretty bold innuendos.
> 
> ALSO, IT'S FRECKING LONG. ALMOST 3000 WORDS. SORRY.
> 
> WARNING: Foul language, sexual references, a bit of fluffiness at the end, and Seth being horny and confused.

"I don't know, Seth Meyers. I really don't like airplanes. I usually have to get wasted before I even set foot in the airport." 

"Oh, come on, Stefon. It's a really short plane ride. You won't even know you're in the air at all. Listen; how about you-"

THUMP!

Stefon had dropped his cellphone on the hard wood floor in the midst of trying to wrestle one of his gold rhinestone encrusted boots away from Bark. It's not like he could just show up at UH-OH shoe-less. He might accidentally hurt his feet on Kate Winslut's greatest marketing scheme yet, the advertising dancefloor. Because when something is sponsored by Staples, what better way to advertise it than by covering it in staples?

"Oops." he let go of the shoe in defeat and picked up the phone. Pressing it to his ear, he continued, "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Uh, is everything alright?"

"My dog. She won't let go of my shoe and I need it." Stefon sighed exasperatedly, flicking his wrists dramatically even though he knew that Seth couldn't see him. He put a hand on his hip and blew a stray piece of hair out of his face. For such a tiny little dog, she sure had a good hold on that boot.

"Wait, 'she'?" Seth asked. "I thought your dog's name was Bark Ruffalo."

"It is." Stefon replied. "I rescued her and her siblings from a plastic grocery sack in a trashcan when she was about 2 days old. I housed them for awhile, then I gave the others away but kept her because she was a runt and I didn't think she'd fare well anywhere else. It turns out that it's really hard to tell the gender of a newborn puppy, and I only figured out she was a girl when I took her to the vet for the first time, which was like, a week after I named her. I wasn't just going to change it. I spent a lot of time coming up with that name!"

"Oh." That was all Seth could muster. He inwardly gushed at how incredibly sweet it was of Stefon to care for all of those abandoned puppies. 

Of course, now Stefon was in a huge dilemma, because it was almost 10:00 and he promised Matthew McConaug-heyyyyy that he'd be there by 10:30. "Come on, Bark!" he chimed in an ungodly octave that he thought might appeal to the canine, "Give daddy his boot!"

Seth snorted at his tone and use of the word "daddy". Stefon's high-pitched baby talk mixed with his usually quiet, breathy voice rendered quite humorous. Bark, however, merely cocked her head to the side, teeth firmly clamped into Stefon's footwear.

"What's she doing now?" Seth asked, his voice laced with amusement.

"She's staring at me." Stefon grunted. He heard Seth giggle, and it brought a dazed grin to his face. Even over the phone, Seth Meyer's laugh was still oh so dreamy. Even if he was, you know, laughing at Stefon's frustration.

"So, what kind of dog is she?" inquired Seth.

Stefon blinked a few times at the somewhat random question. Seth must've been trying to strike up small talk. Stefon rolled his eyes and smirked. That was such a normal, Seth Meyers-y thing to do. "A Westiepoo."

"... Pardon?"

"West Highland White Terrier/Toy Poodle mix." he explained. 

"Ah." Seth said in understanding, "So, she's a little fluffy white thing? Looks kinda like a cotton ball?"

"More like a small rug... or a toilet seat cover." he remarked, "But more or less, yeah. That pretty much sums her up."

"And you can't get your boot away from her? She's tiny!" Seth teased.

"Hey, she's pretty fast for what she is." He stuck his tongue out in concentration, preparing himself to pounce on the small animal and reclaim his shoe. She'd been backed up against the wall, and the reality of the situation was now sinking in to her. He narrowed his eyes, and without warning, lunged himself at the dog.

With speed more suited for a cat, she bolted out from under him and dove past the lamp, successfully knocking it over with a swing of the boot. Stefon watched in slow-motion horror as the boot grazed harshly against the lamp-post, removing not one, not two, but THREE of the golden rhinestones.

"Stefon... are you okay?" Seth stammered after the loud crash quieted. Stefon replied with a groan so pathetic and miserable that Seth's eyebrows furrowed in concern. Something obviously went wrong.

Stefon leaned down and picked up the glittery remains. His expression turned cold and unforgiving. The atmosphere was tense. He stared deep into Bark's eyes. She stared back with an expression that could only be translated to, "So you think this is a fucking game?"

It wasn't.

Not anymore.

"Bark," he said firmly, "bad girl!" His eyes narrowed down at the dog. "That. Was. My. FAVORITE PAIR OF BOOTS!" he thundered, his voice cracking.

"Stefon?"

"Uh-huh?" He sounded anxious, his voice high-pitched and broken. Seth could tell he was doing his very best to keep his cool.

"Do you want me to come over?"

"Uh-huh." he whimpered.

"I'll be there in five." And with that, he hung up and shrugged on his jacket.

.....

Knock knock knock!

Seth checked the slip of paper to make sure he got the address right. Stefon had scribbled it down and given it to him over 4 years ago, just shortly after they met at Stefon's job as a barista. Even though he rarely visited Stefon's apartment (the latter usually came over to his instead), he always kept that little crumpled up piece of paper bearing Stefon's messy scrawl in his wallet at all times, ever since the day it was given to him. He still wasn't exactly sure why.

His thoughts were cut short when the door opened to reveal one very somber Stefon Zolesky. "Hi, Seth Meyers." He looked all done up and ready for a night on the town; perfectly coiffed, but slightly tousled hair, black eyeliner, an Ed Hardy shirt that was the loudest shade of neon pink he'd ever seen (tatted sleeves mostly lime green, which contrasted sharply), usual multitude of rings, tight black pants, and one golden boot.

The defeated look on his peculiarly attractive face caused Seth to take on an expression of sheer sympathy. "Uh, hey." Not really knowing what to say, he added, "You look really good."

Stefon offered a halfhearted smile, his hollow cheeks pinkening slightly at the compliment. "Thanks. Come on in." He stepped aside to allow Seth entrance to his home.

"So, where's the problem child?" Seth sighed stepping into the exponentially warmer building.

"On the sofa." he closed the door and walked briskly towards the lounge area. Seth's ears perked up. There was a very subtle, almost inaudible squeaking sound that Seth couldn't quite place. He shrugged it off and followed after Stefon.

And there Bark sat on the grey upholstery, tiny sharp teeth clamped tightly onto what was apparently Stefon's other boot. The shoe looked incredibly sad, with small punctures in the fake suede and missing rhinestones. Seth glanced at Stefon, whose expression was weary. 

"That," he spoke quietly, "was my favorite pair of shoes."

"I know." Seth placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, "Hey, we'll get it back. It's not past the point of saving."

"You think?" Stefon questioned hopefully as he watched his dog chew mercilessly away at his shoe.

"Yeah. I do." Seth confirmed with a nod. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do; I'll stand in front and distract her, and you go up from behind the couch and grab her. I'll get your boot back, you just focus on not letting her get away. Sound good?"

"Sounds great." 

With that, Stefon crept over to the other side of the room and started making a painfully slow circle around to the back of the couch. There was that damn squeaking again. Seth approached Bark, squealing nonsense like, "Who's a good girl!? Bark is! Yes she is!" to draw her attention off of her master. He shot Stefon a look when he started chuckling at him.

After what felt like an hour, but in all actuality was only about 45 seconds, Stefon finally reached the back of the sofa, and Bark was completely unaware of his presence, distracted by all of the dumb faces and noises Seth kept making at her. 

"1... 2..." Seth mouthed, "3!" 

It happened in a flash. Stefon's upper body dove over the sofa, his lanky arms successfully winding their way around Bark's petite form. She immediately started struggling. "Now!" he shouted. Seth, however, was extremely caught off guard.

So that's where that squeaking noise was coming from.

In Stefon's current position of being bent over the back of the sofa, Seth realized that those pants weren't made of denim, but form-fitting black leather. His mouth went dry, and he felt his face burn bright red. He was horrendously embarrassed, but also a little bit turned on. He wasn't gay. Anybody could rock leather pants, right? But as he found his mind drifting off to other, less appropriate situations in which Stefon could be bent over furniture in such clothing, he smacked his forehead and thought, 'Really, Seth? Quit being so disgusting.' 

"What are you doing?" Stefon hissed as he tried to stand upright and bring the dog to his chest to get a better hold on her, however, his efforts were in vain.

Seth snapped back to reality and tore his eyes away from Stefon's ass before he got too enveloped in his overly-excited imagination. Without another thought, Seth launched himself into the fray, his hands firmly grasping both sides of the shoe. 

"Come on, baby! I need these shoes to party!" Stefon declared between gritted teeth. Bark growled menacingly when Seth's hand got a little too close for comfort. Stefon gasped. "Don't you dare act like you're going to bite Seth Meyers! Bad girl!" If he could've bopped her on the head, he would've.

Seth pulled and fought and did his very best to get the shoe away without shredding it anymore than it already was, but to no avail. This pooch had jaws of steel, and she was not willing to let go for anyone; not for her master, and definitely not for him. Eventually, she fought her way out of Stefon's arms and went darting across the room. 

"Well, that didn't work. What now?" Stefon asked in between pants. He hadn't been this exhausted since he did that "Retired Cannibal Run for Cream Soda and Adolescence" marathon with Heidi Cum. 

"We could always try throwing something else for her to chew on. Like, toys." Seth pondered.

"Uh, toys? I don't think I want her chewing on those. I mean, I'm freaky, but not that freaky. Plus, they cost a lot of money."

Seth's eyes became the size of dinner plates as soon as he realized what Stefon was talking about. "Dog toys, not sex toys!" He slapped a hand over his face, "Jesus, Stefon. Gross."

"Oh. Well, I think she has, like a big rubber bone laying around somewhere." With a smirk, he added, "Then again, so do I, so make sure you know which one's which before you throw it."

Seth's was flabbergasted by the rather blunt innuendo. He wanted to laugh, but it was just so wrong... "Yes, I'm sure you do, Stefon." Before his mind could wander into the gutter again, he added, "But seriously, do you have dog toys? Like, for dogs. Not for you."

Stefon giggled and put a finger to his chin, a mock expression of deep thought washing over his sharp features. "Hmmm, let me think..."

"Stefon..."

"I'm just messing with you." he rolled his eyes, "Of course she has toys."

Seth looked around the room, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "I don't see any."

"That's because she likes to hide them under the furniture." he explained, "There's one over there, see?" He strode over to the coffee table and retrieved a stuffed rabbit from underneath. He handed the doll to Seth, who threw it to the dog in hopes of transferring her fluffy wrath to an object that wasn't Stefon's boot. She stopped her chewing and stared at the toy for a second, before ignoring it and going about her business.

Stefon threw his hands up in defeat. "I guess she's not going to stop. I'm just going to have to... change." Seth almost saw the lightbulb go off above Stefon's head.

"What is it?"

"Seth Meyers, could you wait here for a second? I just had an epiphany." Stefon practically sang.

Seth raised his eyebrows. "Uh, sure. Whatever you say." Stefon bounced away and disappeared into what Seth remembered to be his bedroom. While he waited, he checked the time on his phone. Woah. It had sure gotten late fast.

A little over a minute later, Stefon came back into the room holding what looked like an old sneaker. "I don't love these anymore." he stated, tossing the shoe in Bark's general direction. Immediately, she released the boot and ran over to destroy the other shoe.

Seth's jaw dropped. "She just wants to chew up your shoes?"

"Apparently." Stefon sighed, making a mental note to buy doggie-proof containers for all of his footwear from now on. He stepped over to where his beloved golden boot lay battered and bruised on the floor, leaning over slowly to pick it up with a slight squeak of his pants. It was completely totaled. "I don't think this is salvageable anymore." he said with an air of sadness.

Seth walked up behind him and placed an arm stiffly around Stefon's shoulder. "I'm sorry, buddy. You know what? I'm going to get you a new pair of gold boots. They'll be even better than these."

Stefon grinned. "You don't have to do that. Come on, I'm beat. Let's sit down for a second." He escorted Seth over to the sofa and practically pushed him down, plopping right next to him shortly afterward. The room was silent, the only sound being the massacre of Stefon's old sneaker, until he spoke, "Hey, Seth? Do you know what time it is?"

"Last time I checked, it was about 11:15."

Stefon groaned. "I'm so late... You know what? I'm just going to call and cancel."

"Really?" Seth raised an eyebrow.

"Yup. My outfit is ruined now, anyway."

Seth rolled his eyes. Of course Stefon couldn't just change his shoes. He opened his mouth to tell Stefon just how fabulous he looked, boots or no boots, but chickened-out and shut up immediately.

"Hey, Seth?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry if I snapped at you earlier, you know, when I was wrestling Bark on the couch. I... Stefon would never EVER purposely raise his voice at you, Seth Meyers. I hope you're not mad."

Seth's heart melted at Stefon's sincere apology. He contemplated also apologizing, but for having impure fantasies about Stefon being bent over the back of a couch. He decided that what the club kid didn't know wouldn't hurt him. In fact, he'd rather push the thought to the back of his mind himself. He wasn't quite ready to admit to that there might be something there; something more than just a close friendship. "It's okay. Don't be sorry. My mind was just... elsewhere. Anyway, I'm not mad."

"Hmm. So, are you really going to go out and buy me a new pair of shoes, or were you just joking?"

"Nope. I'm really going to do it."

And sure enough, he did. 

The next week, he walked into 30 Rockefeller with a paper shopping bag, which he handed over to an extremely excited Stefon. When the club kid pulled the new pair of gold boots out of the box, he let out a noise that was somewhere in between a gasp and a squeal. "These must've been expensive. The rhinestones aren't glued on, and," another gasp, "and they're real leather!"

When he commented this, Seth explained that he got them because they were far more durable than his old boots, and most definitely not because he had developed a thing for Stefon wearing leather.


	5. 107) Drugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't care for this one at all, but it'll have to do for tonight. (My grammar is failing me.) Will probably rewrite it later.
> 
> Drugs are not meant to be taken lightly, people. I'm sorry if I made Seth seem like an enabler. I just didn't want him to be on Stefon's case throughout, if you know what I mean.
> 
> WARNING: Drug abuse via injection. It doesn't include the actual action of injecting, but if this at all triggers you, then please don't read. Also, drunk!Stefon and some gross unromantic romance. Also, the last 'flavor' is exactly what you think it is.
> 
> This one's also a heavy PG-13/soft R.

It wasn't like he saw Stefon everyday. He had a feeling that if he did, his girlfriend would wring his neck and accuse him of loving the club kid more than he loved her. Even so, it had been a long time since the two went more than a couple of hours without at least texting. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, Stefon was a million times more interesting to converse with than his girlfriend, and also far more attentive. If Seth sent a message to Stefon, he would usually get a reply in five minutes or less, as if he was constantly staring at his phone, awaiting Seth's casual attempts at small talk. However, it was probably more likely that all of those club drugs made him ultra-sensitive to his phone vibrating in his pocket. The point is, if Seth texted Stefon, Stefon always texted back.

So one night, after a stressful day at work, Seth typed up a lazy, "What are you up to tonight?" He thought that perhaps he would take Stefon to a late movie or something since they hadn't seen each other in awhile.

He waited. And waited. And watched the news. And waited some more. After 4 hours, he didn't receive a response. 'Maybe I'm setting my expectations too high.' he thought, 'He's probably out partying with his friends. Or his phone died.'

Yet another hour passed with no word from his strange nocturnal friend, and he was starting to get tired. Just for kicks, he decided to fire up Find My Friends to see if he was correct about his earlier inquiries. Stefon ALWAYS kept his phone with him at all times, so they agreed to get the app so that when Stefon got so slizzard he couldn't even walk, let alone remember where he was, Seth could find him and take him home. 

Sure enough, Stefon showed up, but not in some random part of Manhattan like he usually did when he was out. No, his little dot was right where his studio apartment in Chelsea was located. Seth shrugged. At least he was at home and safe. Probably needed time to catch up on some much needed sleep. Seth decided that that sounded like a fantastic idea, and retired for the evening without another thought on the matter.

The next morning, he was disappointed to check his phone and find that there was still no response. Oh well. He was supposed to see Stefon at work that day anyway. He'd just talk to him then.

...

Seth walked home from 30 Rockefeller that night with furrowed eyebrows and a frown etched onto his face. Stefon hadn't shown up for work. No matter how late Stefon stayed out, or what kind of substances he'd forced into his body the previous evening, he had never once been late, let alone a no-show.

He took out his phone and once again checked the locator app. Stefon was still in the exact same place he was yesterday. A sick feeling twisted in Seth's gut. Something about this felt terribly wrong.

He stopped in his tracks and thought for a moment, before turning on his heel and deciding to hail a taxi.

...

He arrived outside of Stefon's building a good 10 minutes later. It was quiet, save for a few people sitting and smoking in front of the tattoo parlor across the street. With a deep breath, he began to climb the dreary concrete staircase that led to Stefon's apartment. As he mentally ran through a list of the most horrifyingly gruesome scenarios possible that could be the reason he hadn't heard from Stefon in over 2 days, he was caught off guard when he almost ran face first into the front door. When he stopped, he found himself panting slightly from exertion. Going up and down those stairs could be quite the workout. He knocked three times and waited.

Absolutely nothing.

He tried again, and again, nothing happened.

He sighed. He wasn't comfortable entering someone's house without their permission, but the mere thought that Stefon could possibly be in trouble on the other side of that door was more than enough to make him reach out and turn the knob. The old piece of wood cracked and creaked with every inch it moved, until it was open wide enough for Seth to step inside and shut it behind him.

It was dark, but the slight illumination of the city lights that filtered through the window enabled Seth to see just how much of a wreck the usually tidy space was. Overturned furniture, broken picture frames, some unknown liquid substance on the rug in front of the sofa. His nose wrinkled at the mere smell of the room. It was like something died in there.

Oh no no no no. He couldn't start thinking like that.

"Stef?" he called out unsurely. His eyes were starting to adjust to the lack of light, and he didn't see Stefon anywhere. Panic shot through his heart, making him speed up and tred further into the apartment. "Stefon!" he spoke louder this time, voice cracking. The air was stiff with silence.

Suddenly, he heard something crash to the floor. Seth all but sprinted in the direction from which he heard the clatter, nearly tripping twice over the mess that littered the floor. He found himself standing in the doorway of the kitchen. There was a small nightlight plugged into the outlet above the countertop, which casted a dim glow over the seemingly abandoned room. "Stefon?" his voice came out quiet and shaky, "Are you in here?"

He stood completely still for a moment, summoning every ounce of courage in his body, before moving around kitchen island. He stopped dead in his tracks and let out a shocked gasp.

There was Stefon, lying on the floor with his back propped up against a cabinet. He wore a white undershirt and boxers, revealing weird misshapen bruises painted few and far apart over his arms, legs, and neck. He was sweating profusely, untidy hair caked with lord knows what, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, making him appear almost... dead. Seth's gaze shot to an object on the floor beside him. An empty syringe.

"Oh god!" Seth practically shrieked as he fell to his knees by Stefon's side, "Stefon, I need you to wake up! Please!" He grabbed the man's downturned chin and forced his face up to look at him. His stare remained blank and lifeless. 

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god," he chanted, feeling his heart grow heavier with each passing second. Tears started streaming down his face at an uncontrollable rate. It didn't look like Stefon's chest was moving at all. Assuming the worst, he slowly, shakily placed his hand lightly over Stefon's slightly parted lips. When he felt an incredibly faint, very warm gust of air brush over his palm, he mentally thanked every deity he could think of before pressing a hand over Stefon's chest. His heart was pounding at a rate even more irregular than usual.

"You're alive. You're alive. You're going to be okay. You're alive." he repeated, as if to reassure himself rather than his passed out friend. What was he supposed to do now? Call 911? And tell them what? That his friend overdosed on... What was he even taking? Wouldn't Stefon get in trouble with police if they found out he was in possession of illegal substances? Well, not that anybody who'd ever met Stefon couldn't tell just by looking at him. But, what if the cops found out? Stefon would kill him if he got sent to jail because Seth was dumb enough to call an ambulance at a time like this. He had no clue of what else to do in this kind of situation.

Well, there was always one thing to try first.

Seth looked down at the younger man with determination written across his face, and with a mumbled apology, raised his hand and struck Stefon swiftly across the cheek, hard enough that his entire head turned sideways.

It had it's desired effect, as Stefon jolted awake with a whiny, "Owwww." Once he recovered from the sharp pain spreading through his face, he took one look at Seth and screamed. Literally. "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" He returned the slap with full force and tried to scoot himself as far away from the intruder as possible, only to realize that he was already pressed into the cabinet.

"Jesus! It's Seth!" he reassured before Stefon had the chance to hit him again.

"Seth Meyers? Oh my gosh, I thought you were a thief or a murderer or something." he slurred as he placed his hand on Seth's now-red cheek, "I'm so sorry." As he dropped his hand, he felt something wet graze his fingertips. "Are you crying?"

"No! Well, I mean, I was. I thought you were dead, Stefon!" he nearly shouted, causing Stefon to wince at the volume.

"What made you think that?" Seth could smell the alcohol on his breath. On top of whatever poison he thought would be fun to inject into his body, he was also drunk. How he was still even forming coherent thoughts was beyond Seth.

"You looked... dead. You were laying here with your eyes half open, not moving or responding to anything I was saying. It scared the hell out of me." Seth adjusted himself so that he was no longer sitting on his knees.

Stefon grinned. As terrible as it sounded, he was positively glowing at the fact that Seth cried for him. Of course, he wasn't happy about the actual act of his honeybear crying -poor baby-, but about the assurance that he was important enough to Seth that he would have a meltdown if he found him dead on the floor. "It's okay. Sometimes, when I don't eat or sleep for awhile, my body just shuts down."

Seth opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. "Well, you looked dead... Then I walk in here and this is sitting right next to you." he picked up the syringe, "I thought you overdosed... What was in this?"

"Nothing..." he looked away dismissively.

"Stefon." Seth said firmly, grabbing the man's chin with a finger and thumb, forcing him to make eye contact, "What did you take?" He needed to know in case it was something deadly he would have to drive him to the hospital over.

Stefon squirmed under Seth's scrutinizing glare, but found himself unable to turn his head away thanks to the hand on his jaw. "Um... If I tell you, do you promise you won't get mad?"

"I promise."

"Okay, well... I'm not... I'm not exactly sure."

Seth blinked a few times. "... What?"

"It was given to me by a friend a couple days ago at SPUUURG, but it made me sick, so he gave me a bottle and said that once I took it a couple times that would go away." he explained.

"You just let some guy inject you with a random drug you don't even know the name of?" Seth looked down the little red puncture marks on the inside of Stefon's arm in horror. "Please, for the love of god, tell me you're at least using sterile needles."

"Of course I am." he assured. He sounded completely exhausted. "Ugh, I feel like I'm going to throw up. I still felt bad after the third dose, so I just kind of drank until I couldn't feel anymore. Not my best idea."

"You know," he moved closer, choosing his next words very carefully, "... if it doesn't make you feel good -you know, like it's supposed to-, maybe you shouldn't take it anymore." Seth suggested. He didn't approve of this self-destructive drug habit, but Stefon needed somebody to support him rather than knock him down. Addiction is a powerful thing, and being told how to live your life by people who don't understand even half of what you're going through only makes it all the more stressful.

"But... But he said it would get better." 

"Maybe it got better for him, but I don't think your body is handling it the same way his did. I mean, is it worth the pain you're going through right now for a brief moment of euphoria that may or may not even come?" he spoke in a soothing voice, rubbing small circles where the marks were on Stefon's forearm. He made a mental note to clean and put a bandaid on the area later, just to be extra sure it didn't get infected.

"An orgasm?" 

"... Excuse me?"

"You just described sex."

"Wait, what? No! I'm being serious right now." Seth smacked his head back into the cabinet. 

"Oh, okay." Stefon giggled.

"Look, I don't like seeing you get yourself sick over thi-"

Before he could finish his sentence, he felt hands on the back of his head forcefully pull him forward until his lips hit... other lips. It took a moment for him to process that he was being kissed. Seth would've loved to say that it was a very romantic, passionate moment. Perhaps it would have been if Stefon's mouth didn't taste like a deadly combination of vodka, spicy Cheez-Its, vomit, and something that Seth really hoped wasn't what he thought it was (it definitely was). Plus, Stefon was still incredibly inebriated, so he probably wasn't even aware of what he was doing.

As gross, unromantic, and sloppy as it was, Seth found himself grinning against the other man's lips at the drunkenly endearing gesture. Finally, they broke apart, and with a huge grin on his face, Stefon slurred, "Stefon won't use it anymore, if it makes you feel better." 

"It makes me feel loads better. Thank you." 

"I can't believe you let me do that."

"Neither can I. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."


	6. 35) Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long. I've been traveling the past few weekends, and school started back up, and so did dance, so I've been pretty damn busy. Please bear with me.
> 
> Anyway, something kinda gross and sweet and PG to make up for the last chapter, which was kind of a downer. Written in the early hours, so it's probably a little rushed and filled with weird shit that I thought was funny at the time. Will probably be revised later, when I'm more awake.
> 
> Also, there's a subtle shoutout to Robin Williams via movie. Thank you for such a magical childhood.
> 
> And on that sad note, this one's for Don Pardo, the voice of SNL.

"They just shut everything off?" Seth asked, horrified as he sat on the couch and put on a second pair of socks, phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder. "What about your heat? Surely that's still working."

"Nope. Everything's out."

"But it's below 0°! They can't do that to you!" he nearly yelled. This was an outrage. Stefon was stuck in his freezing cold apartment with a sore throat, a stuffy nose, no groceries, and no power.

"They can when you don't pay your rent." Stefon rasped tiredly.

"What happened that you couldn't pay your rent?" Seth furrowed his eyebrows, praying that the man didn't blow all of his rent money on drugs. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time.

"So, here's what happened. I went for a walk with Bark the other day, and some stray dogs came up and started acting all aggressive towards us. She got scared and broke lose and they chased her and tore her up, so I had to take her to the emergency animal clinic. They operated on her and the vet bill was insanely expensive. So, that's what happened to all of my money for the rest of the month."

This news saddened Seth. "Is she okay?"

"They said she should be fine."

"So, now what are you going to do?"

"What can I do? I can't even stand up. I guess I'll just lay here and wait until either starvation or the weather takes me. Aww, poor Stefon."

Seth shook his head at that last bit. "Hang in there. I'm coming over." He stood up and threw on a hat and a coat before slipping his feet into a ridiculously heavy pair of snow boots.

Stefon's previously defeated tone brightened up considerably, "Really? But, what about that bitc- I mean, your girlfriend? She's going to want you to stay home and-"

"No. You sound horrible, and I think you need me. I'm coming over, and I'm bringing take-out and sweaters and candles and hot chocolate and blankets and NyQuil and my laptop so we can watch movies. I'll be there in 20 minutes. Don't die."

And that was that. He hung up without even waiting for a reply.

...

About half an hour later, there was a knock at Stefon's door. 

"It's unlocked!" he called, his voice breaking.

He heard some fumbling outside, and then the door swung open to reveal Seth Meyers in all of his glory, duffel bag swung over his shoulder with a large paper bag in one hand and a drink carrier in the other. 

He took one look at Stefon, who's lanky form was sprawled out across the sofa, and his heart broke. He was as white as a ghost, except for his nose and lips which were chapped and red, while his eyes were ringed in a sickly blueish-grey color. He was clinging onto his small, bandaged dog underneath his thin blanket like his life depended on it.

Seth quickly shut the door behind him and walked straight to the sofa, setting the greasy paper bag and drink holder on the coffee table. Stefon just watched helplessly. He didn't say a word as he knelt down and unzipped the duffel bag. It was when he pulled the blanket off of Stefon that the stale quiet was broken with a sharp gasp and indignant protests, only to be silenced once more when his blanket was replaced with a very large, very soft, very warm white comforter.

"I stuck it in the dryer before I came here to heat it up a little." he helped prop the younger man into a sitting position and handed him something else from the bag, "And that is the warmest, most comfortable sweater I've ever owned. I've had it since I was in college, and it's never failed to make me feel a million times better." 

Stefon didn't move, as he was in kind of a state of shock, so Seth leaned over and manually pulled the large garment over the other man's head himself. Stefon snapped out of it just enough to adjust his arms into the proper holes, but still didn't utter a word.

"And here you go," Seth grabbed one of the cups and put it in Stefon's hand, "one hot chocolate with a hefty dose of Bailey's and extra whipped cream. There's orange chicken and fried rice in the bag and I brought a couple of DVDs, like The Birdcage because I know how much you love it and I remember you told me that you haven't gotten to see it in years, so we can just pop it in my laptop and... Are you okay? You're being awfully quiet."

Stefon gazed at Seth in wide-eyed amazement. "I want you to know that I love you more than everything, Seth Meyers." 

Seth smiled and shrugged off his long coat, revealing that he arrived in pajama pants. "I know."

"Like, I even love you more than I love LUUURCH and SPURG combined, and those places have everything; skunk apes, nautilus soup, bathtubs full of lube, Benadryl, sandjobs, shrink wrap-"

"Okay, shhhh. You're straining your voice." 

"I like your sweatpants, by the way. Very sexy." Stefon took an experimental sip of his hot chocolate. 

"Thank you." he replied sarcastically, "Might I say that your corpse blue skin really makes your eyes pop?" He took off his boots and plopped down on the couch, pulling the comforter over his lap and scooting close to the other man for warmth.

He shot Seth a look before pressing his bare foot against the older man's ankle. Seth jumped at the touch. "Your foot feels like an ice cube!"

"My whole body feels like an ice cube." he sniffled.

"Poor Stefon, indeed." Seth snaked his arm around the other man and pulled him close against his side. He felt Stefon twitch, his muscles stiffening at the sudden contact. The reaction made draw back a little. "Er, you don't mind, do you? It's just that it's super cold in here, and I thought you'd want to-"

"No no, you're fine." he assured with a hint of urgency in his tone, before relaxing into the embrace and resting his head on Seth's shoulder. "It's just been awhile since a man's held me like this."

Seth paused and thought for a second. "... Why do I feel like I've heard you say that before?"

"Because it was one of my four lines in Macaulay Cock-In's hit play, 'Good Will Hunty'. Remember? It opened in the stairwell of that Bagel Loft place that ended up closing because of the 'beaver problem'," he made quotations marks with his fingers, "whatever that means."

"I think... I think I have a vague recollection of that. It was really offensive and horrible." Seth stared off in horror as he recalled the production. "Who'd you play again?"

"Twink #1, twink #2, a desk, and twink #3 in act 6 because the guy playing him was having, like, a liver malfunction or something."

"That's right. You definitely should have won a Tony for twink #2. The way you licked that chalkboard was inspiring." Seth joked.

"Thank you. I consider that my finest work in a live pornographic rendition of a 90s drama classic." he finished that trainwreck of a sentence with a nonchalant sip of hot cocoa. "We should probably eat before the food turns into Chincicles."

"Just to be safe; what are Chincicles?"

"Chinese icicles."

"That's what I thought." Seth leaned forward and snatched the greasy bag of food off the coffee table. He pulled out the two plastic containers of food and just stared at them. "I don't feel like getting out from under the blanket to get plates. Do you?"

Stefon shook his head vigorously and snuggled even further into Seth's side.

"Thought so. Well, there are plastic forks and napkins in here." he shrugged, "Let's just eat out of the containers."

And that's how they found themselves spooning heaping mountains of fried rice into their mouths at 6:00 in the evening, watching The Birdcage while cuddling closer than two people (and a dog) should ever find comfortable.

When it came to the Greek bowl scene, Stefon commented through a mouthful of chicken, "I want those."

To which Seth replied, "I'm sure you do."

After a few minutes, Stefon spoke up again. "I have a question."

"Shoot." Seth used the arm that wasn't wrapped around Stefon to take a sip of his now-lukewarm chocolate.

"Why didn't you just come pick me up and take me back to your place? You still have heat."

"My girlfriend's there."

"So?"

Seth sighed and turned the volume down on the movie. "I don't know how to put this gently, so I'm just going to come right out and say it; my girlfriend hates you."

Stefon clicked his tongue. "She does not."

"No, trust me. She does."

"I still think you just did it for the excessive cuddling and hip fondling."

Seth blinked a few times and moved his hand up from said hip. "Not true. I did it because you're sick and cold and you'd do the same thing for me."

Stefon grinned. "Aw. Thanks for taking care of me all the time, Seth Meyers."

"My pleasure."

An hour later, the movie was over and the club kid was in a NyQuil induced coma on Seth's lap. This put the latter in quite a predicament. He couldn't just up and leave. Not with the heat out and the temperature dropping even further by the second. Stefon wouldn't make it through the night. 

He made a very rash, and possibly dangerous decision. He pulled out his cellphone and called his girlfriend.

After the first 3 rings, she picked up. "Seth? Where are you?"

"Look, honey, I'm not going to be able to come home tonight."

"... WHAT?"

He put his phone in between his cheek and his shoulder. As he listened to her rant, he stood up from the sofa and gathered Stefon and Bark, who were conveniently wrapped up in the comforter, in his arms. After some adjusting, he managed to find a way to carry them without dropping anything. Maneuvering around the apartment and into Stefon's room was a task that proved difficult, what with the darkening sky and lack of electricity. 

"I can't believe you! You can be so selfish!"

He rolled his eyes as he laid Stefon and his dog on the bed, unraveling the blankets and crawling in next to him.

"Sometimes, I think you love that little freak more than you love me!"

'Funny. Sometimes, I think the same thing.' That was his last thought before he drifted off, girlfriend yelling in his ear and Stefon sleeping by his side.


End file.
